Scenes in this chapter coincide with Ann McCaffrey's "The White Dragon"
Chapter Eleven
The Masterharper rose as Brekke and F'nor entered the council room. Already seated were the Weyrleaders. Robinton executed a short bow to Brekke then pulled the ornate wooden chair out for her. She settled herself granting him a modest incline of her head then faced F'lar.
F'lar gestured to the Masterharper, "Continue, Robinton."
"Yes, of course," his rich baritone voice was pitched to persuade. "Not only for Lord Jaxom and the select journeymen of my hall, but I want to extend these sessions for some of the younger bronzes in each of the weyrs. I have also approached some of the other Master craftsmen."
"Robinton's proposal," Lessa interrupted, "is to assemble a group of young people for cross-craft training." She faced F'nor but her eyes darted often to Brekke.
With an indiscernible nod, Brekke turned to Robinton, "Who from Benden do you have in mind?"
"I thought of F'lessan first but my journeywoman suggested your fosterling."
Brekke gave an uncharacteristic chuckle, "Mirrim has no need for fostering as a fighting green rider. I agree with Menolly, though. She is bright, and already a competent healer. I expect soon that Goren will send her to Oldive to sit her journeyman exams."
"Then, by all means, your approval is enough for me," Robinton replied.
Brekke smiled inwardly. With these Masterharper study sessions, she achieved the means to separate T'gellan and Mirrim as B'mezal advised. She had also provided herself with transportation to Masterhealer Oldive so that she, herself, could study for her mastery. F'nor could stop his hovering and get on with his duties to Benden. F'lar and Lessa would be pleased.
It was soon agreed that Mirrim and F'lessan would join 28 other young people for studies ranging from metallurgy to star mapping. They would attend four of the sevendays, not counting fall or rest days. Mirrim would bring Brekke to the Harper Hall and on those days when classes were not held there, she would pick up Menolly and return for Brekke.
Robinton was one to never overstay his welcome. After his third glass of wine and a few flakey pastries full of soft cheese, he rose, bowed to the ladies and exited through Ramoth's weyr to a waiting Fort Blue. As soon as the Masterharper was beyond hearing, F'nor looked at Lessa accusingly, "This is how you put the Lord Holder and Ruth near Mirrim and Path."
Brekke's reverie snapped as she swiveled to look at her Weyrwoman. "What? Jaxom with Mirrim; for what purpose? Oh."
F'lar had positioned himself behind Lessa, setting his hands to her shoulders in support. "Jaxom is unweyerd and Mirrim is female. Path will rise within the next several months."
# # #
The day was late by the time the battle over the lowland farms between the Benden Mountains and Nerat Peninsula was done. T'gellan stepped onto the walkway from the Council Room to look across the bowl. He could see Path pressing her head into the chest of a brown dragon while the smaller figures on the brown's back were dressing the threadscore. Mirrim would be a while yet before she came to dinner. Debriefing had been longer than usual, especially as F'lar had detained him again to discuss that pair's impending first mating flight. Although F'lar hadn't ordered him, suggestions had been conferred. T'gellan said he would discuss them with her, again. He walked down the steps to the bowl floor, hesitant to approach her while she worked. His stomach was empty and his shoulders stiff.
"Eat first," Monarth suggested, "then soak." T'gellan looked to his weyr but saw nothing of his dragon. Usually Monarth observed Mirrim and Path while they were tending to injuries. "Thread fell thick," his dragon added. "I need my couch."
"You must be especially hungry to enjoy that overcooked wherry." Talina's voice tinkled as she approached him. Their son, Tallan, rode upon her hip, his fist in his mouth. Talina had regained her slim figure shortly after giving birth. She had lost none of her dark beauty either.
His smile for the pair was genuine. "I was so hungry today I would have found my boots tasty." Tallan was him in miniature. He liked how often Talina would bring the babe to him. He was growing so fast. The little boy stretched his arms out to T'gellan and he intuitively took the child. "C'mere big boy."
She slinked onto the bench across from him "I am weaning him now. Soon I will have to foster him and resume my duties." She sighed dramatically.
He looked up to see her troubled face and wondered why she would mention it to him. He tried to think if there was some kind of response expected from him. "Oh, will you send him back to your family in Ruatha?" Some women, especially queen riders, sent their children back to their birthplaces to preserve blood ties. Sometimes it was a condition during search. He looked at the toddler, stroked the copper hair and felt a tinge of sorrow that he would not watch the child grow the way he enjoyed his daughter, five turns this boy's senior.
"No, I will send him to Sanra in the lower caverns", she replied with a condescending smile. "Tallan will be weyrbred and one day will ride a bronze."
T'gellen looked at his son, "It wouldn't matter if you ever impressed, Tallan, my boy. It is decided; here's your home." Riders were careful not to state whether their sons would be dragonriders too. It was courting failure to assume. However, mothers would speculate up to the moment the shell cracked.
The three stayed apart from the rest of the cavern until Tallan fell asleep on T'gellan's shoulder. Although their conversation was amicable, both had the sense of waiting. Talina sauntered over to him pulling the child into her arms. She nuzzled T'gellan's neck before leaving. "You smell of firestone."
"I have yet to soak it off."
"Why don't you come to our weyr", Talina suggested with a tilt of her head. "It has been too long since you soaked in my bath and rested in my bed".
"On another night perhaps, Talina, but I need a long soak and my bath lets me stand submerged." T'gellan rolled his shoulders stiffly.
She smiled demurely and walked away cradling their son. He watched as the pair left the cavern, appreciating her swaying walk. Abruptly he stood and left, tired of waiting for Mirrim, ambling toward his weyr. Monarth was fast asleep in his couch but Path and Mirrim were no longer in the bowl. Well, he planned a long soak anyway. Perhaps Mirrim would join him before he wrinkled then she could knead his shoulders and back.
He was about to get out when he heard Mirrim enter their bedchamber. She walked into the bathing room with a towel wrapped around her. His smile broadened as she hung up the towel and slowly lowered herself into the water.
She dunked under then rose beside him and sighed contentedly. "This is my favorite part of the day."
"Mine too," he replied pulling her onto his lap. "Can you rub my shoulders or are your hands numbweeded out?" He could smell the pungent odor now that she was close to him. He also smelled ichor which meant that brown dragon's injuries must have been extensive. Numbweed and ichor always brought up the memory of Keth's rescue and he absently twitched his left shoulder.
"Let me soak a bit, rather," she hesitated, "I shouldn't soak too long, just in case."
"In case what?"
She looked at him, her eyes shining, "I think I may be expecting but it's a bit too soon to know for sure."
"You are?" T'gellan swung her to face him, his face slightly wild. "When will you know for certain?"
"Another three or four sevenday," she replied smiling broadly. "But don't say anything quite yet, not until we are certain, please?"
All thoughts of F'lar's request, Talina's sleek body, his stiff shoulders, and his other children left his mind as he envisioned their child in his weyr. "No long soaks. What else? When will you have to stop riding?" Thoughts of how to bring this child safely into this world warred within him. "When will you tell Brekke?"
A small frown crossed Mirrim's face before she looked up at him and smiled. "I will tell Brekke when I am certain."
# # #
Menolly and Jaxom leaned in closer to Mirrim as she drew the arc of Timor bisecting Belior's path. F'lessan had ambled away from the sand table to look out at Golanth and the other dragons sunning themselves on the heights above Telgar's Smithcraft hold. Path and Ruth were nestled beside each other, almost every available fire lizards in the vicinity were nestled with the pair. While the workgroups grappled with their calculations, F'lessan quickly recalculated in his head the ages of the little white and slightly larger green. Both dragons were old enough to mate yet neither showed inclination. But there they were, looking post-coital. He looked over at the two riders, his childhood friend and hatchmate, speculating. How do a juvenile Lord Holder rider and first female green rider in remembered history, react to their dragons' appetites? Golanth was barely two turns when he caught his first golden, one of the junior queens at Benden. Before that queen had clutched a whopping 28 eggs, Golanth had flown a junior queen at High Reaches. The Weyrleaders were not amused.
Mirrim's sharp command snapped him from his reverie, "So F'lessan, why do you think that Belior and Timor will swap orbits the next time they are at aphelion of Pern?" The other two looked up at him even though Mirrim's fuzzy brown head remained intent on the table.
F'lessan sauntered back, "Because it's obvious that they won't. Timor always appears in front of Belior."
"Name your proof," Jaxom retorted with a gleam in his eye. Mirrim excelled in Wansor's starcraft classes which calculated the movement of the red star and Pern's two satellites. The only other student more meticulous than Mirrim was Benelek. However, while Benelek lost patience explaining the equations, Mirrim was often sought as an instructor once her officious manner was dismissed.
"Benalek says so," F'lessan replied as he looked down on the mass of calculations that Mirrim had drawn since he had last looked. He expected such a response to keep Mirrim and Jaxom debating. While Benalek and Mirrim were recognized as the two brightest of the classes, Mirrim would argue her case while Benalek would intimate that only the stupid and uninformed would disagree with him. Jaxom has said that Mirrim was the better teacher for her ability to prove those who disagreed with her were either stupid or uninformed.
"This is important, F'lessan." Mirrim raised her head. "We don't know why that occasionally Timor appears behind Belior when they are full but when they do, the tides are different and Pern's weather is more severe. And, it hasn't happened in 72 turns."
"I am so bored with this," F'lessan thought toward Golanth. "Ask Path what Mirrim wants for an answer."
"Path says the moons are repelled by each other and Mirrim says that you are unfair when you ask me to bespeak Path", Golanth thought back then yawned audibly, shaking the windows of the hall slightly.
To Mirrim's credit, she didn't call him on his telepathic cheating, "Explain then, when the moons are full that Belior appears behind Timor as they cross the night sky yet Timor is always behind Belior when they are waxing or waning?"
Thankfully the gong sounded. The east coast classmates were dismissed as it was their dinner hour while the students from further west would return for their noon meals. Menolly followed the three riders out as first Ruth then Path landed in the courtyard. While Mirrim checked the harness on her dragon Menolly stepped up behind Jaxom on Ruth.
"I'm not to take you to your hall, Menolly? "Mirrim asked.
"Robinton is at Ruatha and sent Zair to tell me to meet him there." Menolly said as Jaxom shrugged and passed back the safety straps. Berd suddenly appeared before her with a message tied to his leg. Mirrim raised her arm for the little bronze fire lizard to land. She read the message as cold grit flew into her face. Ruth had launched and slipped between on his fourth downswing.
"Well Path," Mirrim said aloud as she mounted her dragon, "We are to return to Benden to pick up Goren and take him to Master Oldive before I may sup."
When she glided into the Benden Bowl, Goren and a dark haired woman walked from the infirmary. Mirrim immediately felt coldness in her gut. She felt Path's rumble between her legs. "Sharra," she groaned. They had known each other as girls in Southern and sat classes together with Brekke and Goren when they were first learning the art of healing. Sharra was older by a turn or two and they could have been friends but the academic animosity began in that first class. It didn't improve when both Mirrim and Sharra sat for their journeyman exams at Oldive's hall at the beginning of the current turn. "I suppose I will have to convey both of them to Fort Hold," she thought resentfully. She directed Path to land at the base of the Infirmary's ramp. In the receding light Sharra stepped towards them while Goren remained at the door.
Mirrim tried to contain her irritation. Why couldn't Brekke have simply informed her that Sharra was the passenger? As she reached her hand to assist the tall, dark woman who was cinching her wherhide jacket, Sharra turned abruptly. "Good bye, Goren and I thank you for the afternoon. When you tire of this cold, remember that Southern Hold is always open to you."
Goren waved from the door, "Always good to see my favorite pupil, Sharra." He shuddered as a gust of cold wind whipped up the ramp. I may join you tomorrow!" With that he slipped behind the door.
When Sharra turned around she jumped up behind Mirrim, ignoring the extended hand. Mirrim passed back the safety straps. "Tell my when you're secured, Sharra, then we'll leave, Are you still expected back at Fort?"
"Yes, Fort. I'm ready." She drawled in the familiar slow speech of the Southern Continent.
Mirrim gave Path the command to rise. She toyed with the idea of going between without warning her passenger but recognized she was being childish. "Prepare for between, she yelled above the wind while envisioning the fireheights of Fort Hold. Path popped between, emerging into afternoon sunlight. Several fire lizards greeted them along with the watch dragon. Although Path was small and definitely nimble enough to land within the Harpercraft Hall's quadrangle, where Oldive's Healer Hall also resided, she directed Path to the sloping field beyond. Sharra could walk. Berd landed before Mirrim with another note. Brekke would be down shortly and to please stay until she was ready to return to Benden.
Sharra had slid down Path and without even a thank-you to Path for the ride, walked toward the Hall. Mirrim sighed. They were never going to get along. Mirrim soon had to remove her wherhide jacket as the sun beat down on her. She was thirsty and felt the rumble in her stomach. She was going to miss dinner if Brekke didn't hurry up. Mirrim had dismounted and kicked off her boots by the time Brekke walked out of the Hall carrying two large satchels.
Mirrim felt irritated. By the time her gear was back on, Brekke had huffed up next to her. "These are heavy," was all Brekke said as she looked upon the green rider with her own irritation. "I could have used your help. One of these needs to be taken to Igen Weyr."
Mirrim hefted both packs to Path's neck thinking that they were not so heavy. She secured them with a twist to the front lead of the riding straps. She mounted and extended her hand to Brekke "Give her your leg, Path," she thought. Path complied but Brekke barely held her hand as she stepped up and behind her. "Tell me when you're secured, Brekke." Mirrim said as she passed back the straps. After what seemed like too long for a response Mirrim looked behind her. Brekke's face was pinched in concentration.
"Who does she bespeak?" Mirrim asked of Path in her mind.
"The one behind you demands I answer her," Path replied.
"Brekke? Brekke is behind me, since when do you not name her?" Mirrim was puzzled.
"I do not wish to answer." Path replied rather belligerently.
"You do not have to answer." Mirrim thought back. "Brekke?" she said aloud. "Are you ready?"
Brekke's eyes refocused and Mirrim felt Path relax under her. Brekke's expression was slightly guilty. She hesitated a moment longer then replied, "Yes, ready."
As Path rose above the fireheights, Mirrim imagined Igen Weyr. "We go between now, Brekke," she yelled.
They popped into dry, hot air, even at their high elevation. Mirrim was still overheated from waiting in the sun at Fort and this heat affected her, she gripped her dragon's neck with her legs feeling slightly lightheaded. As they flew over Igen's star stones, Path bugled her greeting to the watch dragon. They landed beside the Infirmary. Brekke dismounted and tugged at one of the satchels.
"Wait, Brekke, let me get them untied; you're pulling at the skin on Path's neck." Mirrim fumbled at the knot until it loosened. She handed one satchel to Brekke and slung the other to her back feeling the sticky sweat under her wherhide jacket. She wanted to remove her gear but thought better. Few riders at Igen would know who she or Path was by sight but she was becoming overheated. The aromas from the open cooking hearth were making her stomach rumble.
A healer opened the door to the infirmary and looked down at Brekke. "Are you from Master Oldive? That was quick!" He approached Brekke and took the satchel and beckoned her to come with him. As the two continued speaking, they entered the infirmary.
Within two minutes, Mirrim knew she had to shed her gear. She dismounted, removed the satchel, jacket and helmet. Path inquired if she could rise to the heights, the sun was wonderfully warm then sprang without receiving an answer. Mirrim was left alone at the base of the ramp in an unfamiliar Weyr. She walked over to the small fountain behind the cooking hearth. Luckily there were cups available. She drank down two cups of tepid water and thought to dump a third over her head before a drudge brought over a long tube. "Juice, m'lady" the squat, flat-faced drudge said with a curtsey and proffered the drink.
Mirrim nodded a thanks, shifting her load of gear and the satchel. Where was shade in this blasted Weyr? An older woman approached her.
"Green Rider," she called as she approached. "Come to the cavern, it is too hot to stand about, especially if you are not…" she stopped abruptly as Mirrim turned. "Oh!"
She thought she had grown accustomed to the stares but as she looked behind the woman, several people were approaching as they realized that the girl green rider was present in their Weyr. A brown rider was the first to respond. He called to her, "Path's rider; come to the shade."
She smiled to the older woman as she passed her to the cavern. She gave the brown rider a single-handed salute and he smiled appreciatively but before she could step under the arch, Brekke called to her.
"Come Mirrim, we need to return to Benden before the remedy in that satchel spoils in this heat." Reluctantly she shrugged to the people and the little drudge still holding the tube. Path landed midway between the two women. She managed to get her gear back on and the pack to her back before a wave of fatigue rolled over her. Brekke was already on Path as she crawled on. The straps were barely passed back before Mirrim gave the command to rise. Once aloft to the comparatively cooler air above the baked mountains, Mirrim expected to feel better but her stomach and back burned. She called back to Brekke then gave Path the command to go home.
Path took the initiative to land before the door to the Infirmary. Mirrim slid off and stumbled through the door. Goren shifted from the cot where he was tending a rider. He rose immediately and came to her as she fell into his arms. "Something's wrong" she said before convulsing.
# # #
T'gellan lingered over his dinner wondering where Mirrim was. She was three hours overdue. The fire lizards had looked to him to feed them that evening. While the greens flew off, Tolly had remained with him. The conversations around him were winding down as a few pairs walked off to the bowl while others had begun a game at the far end of his table. Monarth broke his reverie. "Path fears. They land at the Infirmary. Mirrim grows dark." Tolly rose and popped between with a shriek. All the Weyrfolk in the hall stared at him. T'gellan had stood, knocking over the bench and plates. A stab of dread like being lost between shot through his body. He ran out to the bowl, intent on reaching the Infirmary while imploring upon Path and Monarth to keep Mirrim here.
Brekke met him outside the door refusing to let him enter. "T'gellan, you have to tell Monarth to calm Path. They won't respond to me."
Path's drone was becoming a keen. Her forepaws were gripping the landing outside the Infirmary while her jeweled eyes, fixed on the door, shone yellow and white. Her tail lashed violently above the sand of the bowl while her wings extended and folded in agitation.
"What's happened to Mirrim?" His voice caught on her name; his eyes bored into Brekke's.
Brekke ducked her head then looked directly at him. "Tend to Path and let me get back in to assist Goren. Don't come in!" She slipped behind the door.
T'gellan looked across the bowl to Monarth, perched on their weyr landing, "Help me with Path."
Monarth began crooning, "Little one, little Path, wait with me, wait with my rider. We must wait." Soon Ramoth from the hatching grounds and Arwith from her weyr crooned too. Several other dragons sat on their ledges, their eyes oscillating from yellow to green, warbled soothingly. People stood at the mouth of the lower cavern watching, waiting too, T'gellan stepped to the green's head and caressed her brow ridges. She pulled back, stretching her neck to the sky she let loose one forlorn keen. Path pulled back from the ledge to the bowl floor. She turned toward her shared weyr and plodded towards it, crawled up the steps then tucking herself into Monarth's side. He curled his neck over her. "You must come to the weyr, my love, and wait with us. Brekke promises to call to you when the grouchy man allows it."
T'gellan huffed then followed his dragon's advice.